


You're (not) welcome here

by warpaintlovers (WritingAddict)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, mean neighbors au, this is going to be fun to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingAddict/pseuds/warpaintlovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke wants Lexa's apartment. The plan is to annoy her so much she'll move out and Clarke can take her flat. The problem? Lexa's a bitch and Clarke kinda likes it.<br/>aka mean neighbors AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Greeting the new neighbor

Raven shivers and whines, for the hundredth time in about half an hour.

“Clarke, if you don't switch apartments very soon, I swear our friendship is over. It's fucking January and it's colder in your flat than outside.”

Sighing, Clarke throws yet another blanket at her.

“I know, trust me, I live here.”

Octavia laughs and gets on her feet, hopping on one leg to keep herself warm.

“So, the heating doesn't work, the hot water doesn't always work, the floorboards creek louder than my old bed when Lincoln and I bang on it, there's a leak beneath the sink and doubtful stains on the walls. Why the hell haven't you moved out already?”

“Uh, because I'm broke?”

“You shouldn't have stopped med school.” groans Raven. “Sure, art is cool and stuff, but you would have been able to afford a decent place eventually.”

“Hey, she will.” Octavia frowns and punches Raven in the shoulder. “Clarke is insanely talented, okay? And she has her first exhibition next month.”

Clarke smiles nervously and looks around, trying to change the subject. The exhibition at the Kane gallery means a lot to her, and she has high hopes for it. But for now, she doesn't want to think about it too much.

“I have good news.” she blurts out. “Remember the nice neighbor? Old cat lady? She's moving out this week. I'm going to ask the landlord if I can switch apartments with her.”

“You reckon he'll agree?” Raven raises an inquiring eyebrow.

“Why not? The rent is exactly the same.”

“Yeah, but he's an asshole. He could have fixed your apartment, for once.”

Octavia raises her hand as she does when she has an idea.

“Clarke Griffin, listen closely to my words. You're freezing in here, it's a shitty place, and if you don't do something about it Raven and I are not visiting you anymore.” Clarke scoffs and Octavia rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay, that's not true, but seriously Griffin, this is not a good situation. When the cat lady is gone, you go and get her apartment. You do whatever it takes.”

“Yeah, you just gotta screw the landlord.” adds Raven. “You have great boobs, I'm sure he'll bang you.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but that will do.” concludes Octavia with a grimace.

Clarke rolls her eyes and stretches out.

“Don't worry girls, no one is more eager to get out of here than I am. I've got it under control. Now please, let's get out of here, preferably to a bar or any place with a decent temperature.”

 

\---

 

Clarke wipes the sweat off of her brow with the back of her hand and drops the last box into the van.

“Those things weigh a ton.” she sighs with relief.

“Thank you for helping me.” the old lady grins at her and gives her a hug. “You take care, Claire.”

“Thanks, ma'am.” Clarke doesn't bother correcting her about the name. She's too happy to finally get the chance to switch apartments.

The old lady's son shakes her hand and thanks her for the extra help, and Clarke waves as he drives away with his mother. The second they disappear from the street, her smile falls off of her face, as she storms back into the building.

She has rarely been so determined about something, and today is the day when she gets a better apartment. She knocks on her landlord's door furiously.

“Cage? Are you there? Open to me, I know you're there.”

After a few moments, the door opens and Cage Wallace stands before her, an obnoxious little smirk on his face barely masking his exasperation.

“Hello, Clarke.” he says before she can even open her mouth. “No, I'm not fixing anything, no, I don't care, yes, I'll be raising your rent by ten percent if you keep annoying me with this twelve times a day, and it's mister Wallace to you, young lady.”

She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers on the doorway impatiently.

“I actually have an idea that can satisfy both of us.”

“If you're asking me to have sex with you so you can be warmer, I could consider that.”

Clarke grimaces and promises herself to tell Raven that Cage actually brought sex on the table. Gross.

“No, thanks, not interested.” she deflects with a cough to hide her disgust as best she can. “The woman in apartment 33 just moved out. It's like five meters away from my apartment, it's the same rent, it's decent and it's available now. Can I...”

“No.”

She widens her eyes.

“But...”

“I said no.” Cage repeats with an irritating little smile she very much wants to wipe off of his stupid face. “You can't switch apartments, I am very sorry.”

“That's bullshit. Why not?”

“There is already someone that moves in tomorrow.”

Clarke's shoulders slump as her heart seems to fall into her stomach.

“Can't they come to my apartment instead? I've been here longer, surely I deserve that.”

“Absolutely not. Nobody in their right mind would move into your flat. Well, except for broke wannabe artists, that is.”

She has to breathe deeply and fight back the urge to punch him.

“I moved into your shitty scam of an apartment in the middle of the summer, and you did your best to cover up all the problems. But now it's January and it's freezing, and I need this so _please_ show some empathy. Please.”

She clenches her jaw, waiting for his answer. Cage slowly licks his lips, eying her up and down. She stands still, not giving in to the shiver of disgust creeping down her spine. If the water was actually hot, she'd take a shower to wash away the feeling of his dirty eyes on her body.

“No.” he says finally, and she knows that's the end of it.

“But...”

“I'll tell you what, Clarke. Since you've been so relentless, I will give you this: the next time apartment 33 is cleared, you can have it.”

Clarke swallows back a bitter comeback, and turns away without another word. It would take months, maybe years until that happens. In other words, she will never get it.

Damn. She really needs the exhibition to be a success so she can earn some money and get the hell out of here.

 

\---

 

“ _You have to drive them crazy. That's your only option.”_

“I'm sorry, what?” Clarke sighs, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulders as she cooks. “Shit, even the cooking hob is damaged. I always have to hit it to get it started.”

“ _The new neighbor.”_ explains Raven. “ _If you annoy the fuck out of them, they won't last a month. Do it while they're not settled yet. Make them think this is a very shitty neighborhood to live in.”_

“That...is actually not a terrible idea.” she mumbles distractedly. “But that would make me a terrible person. I am not sure I can do that.”

“ _I don't care, Clarke. You know what your problem is? You always think about people before taking care of yourself. This has to change. You can't freeze your ass in here just so a stranger that's maybe not even nice can have the better end of this deal.”_

“Mmh. I'm not sure this is morally right, Raven.”

“ _But you need this. For fuck's sake, you sleep with two pairs of socks and three sweaters, and you still tremble like a leaf. Cage was clear, wasn't he? Drive the neighbor out, and the place is yours. Do. It. Think about yourself first for once.”_

They chat for a few more minutes before Clarke hangs up, starting to eat her lunch. She's staring out of the window distractedly, chewing on her food, when she notices a car she doesn't know driving into the building's parking lot. It's a black car, with a trunk so full it's half open.

Clarke frowns. This must be the new neighbor. She picks up her plate and goes to sit by the window to get a better view. The car parks, and a few moments later the driver steps out.

Clarke almost has to pick up her jaw off of the floor, as she reminds herself to keep on eating. Hot damn. The young woman who stands there, taking in her surroundings, is outstandingly beautiful, and she's about Clarke's age. Clarke lives on the third floor, but she can spot her high cheekbones and her chestnut hair, her sharp jawline and her long, long legs. When the girl opens her trunk, revealing a considerable amount of boxes and bags, Clarke doesn't think twice about it. She puts her food away and hurries downstairs to offer her help.

Not twenty seconds later, Clarke arrives onto the parking lot, casually walking towards her new neighbor.

The young woman, hearing the noise of her steps, whips around and Clarke stops right on her tracks, stunned. She was definitely not prepared to face those piercing green eyes, those plump lips that look incredibly soft, those features who might just be the definition of perfection. Her fingers itch. She has to draw that, as soon as possible.

“Hi.” she says, and she can't think of anything else because her mind sort of went completely blank.

The girl raises an eyebrow and stands a little straighter, but she offers no answer.

“I... I'm Clarke. I'm your new neighbor.” she develops.

She feels scrutinized, and once again she has to stop herself from shivering under a person's gaze. But this time, it's most definitely not disgust she feels.

“Okay.” replies the girl simply, focusing back on her trunk.

Clarke blinks, dumbstruck.

_This is so rude._ _Isn't she going to introduce herself?_

She clears her throat and takes another step towards the girl.

“Do you need any help to carry all that upstairs?” she proposes, because Clarke Griffin has good manners, thank you very much.

This time, the girl crosses her arms and stares at her defensively.

“No.” she says.

“Alright.” Clarke rolls her eyes, vaguely annoyed. “I was just being polite.”

“I don't know you.” answers the girl haughtily.

It's unfair that she's so pretty, because Clarke wants to be pissed at her and she's a bit distracted instead.

“I told you, I'm Clarke, your new neighbor.” she repeats, conveying as much warmth as she manages, given the circumstances.

“And I'm busy,” the girl shoots back, “so please get out of my way.”

Shocked, Clarke just stares blankly as the girl grabs a few bags, locks her car and storms into the building. She hates herself for staring at her ass too.

Clarke clenches her fists angrily as her mind finally catches up with the situation. She follows the girl upstairs – well, not on purpose, really she's just going back to her place – and rolls her eyes when her new neighbor pointedly closes her door behind her.

Clarke locks herself into her own flat, immediately feeling the cold temperature freeze her bones. She drops onto the couch and dials Raven's number in seconds.

“It's on.” she says as soon as her friend picks up the call. “I'm doing it. I'm going to get the bitch to move out.”

“ _Wow, I'm gathering you've met your new neighbor.”_

“Yes. I introduced myself and she told me to piss off, it was so rude. She clearly doesn't deserve to live in the good apartment.”

“ _You need a plan to get on her nerves real fast, Griffin. Any ideas?”_

Clarke opens her mouth and closes it. She has absolutely no clue how to manage to drive her neighbor crazy. As far as she knows, the girl seems pretty fierce. This is probably going to be much harder than she thought.

“No.” she admits, grabbing a blanket to cover her shivering legs.

“ _Think, Clarke. What does she hate? Did you talk about that?”_

“I told you, we didn't talk. She barely said three sentences, she was too eager to leav... Wait.” Clarke freezes and jumps on her feet. “I know. She hates me.”

“ _That's perfect! Now, go and be as clingy as you can. Annoy the fuck out of her._ _Be obnoxious._ _And tomorrow, O' and I are coming over to your place to throw the loudest party ever. If that doesn't do it, I don't know what will.”_

“I hate to do this.” sighs Clarke. “But I really need this place, and she's such a bitch.”

“ _You don't have to justify yourself._ _ Nobody is rude to my baby Griffin and gets away with it. And I don't want to find you one morning dead from hypothermia.” _

 

_\---_

 

She just moved in and spent the whole day taking her furniture all the way up the stairs to her new flat. (Why the hell isn't this elevator functional when she needs it most? That closet is weighing more than a goddamn elephant, she swears.) The building looks pretty empty, though, so that's a perk. Lexa is a lone wolf. She only came across one neighbor, but Lexa believes she was clear enough. She came here to focus on her career, and she doesn't need to be preoccupied with social interactions.

That's exactly why she's extremely annoyed when someone knocks at her door while she's cooking dinner. Add to this that Lexa hates cooking, and she's not exactly very good at it, so it requires her whole attention. An unwanted guest is a rather unwelcome distraction.

She rushes toward the door, blurts it open and pretty much snaps at whoever-is-disturbing-her.

“What is it?”

The person standing on the threshold is, surprisingly, Clarke. She seems to have decided to be a complete pain in Lexa's neck. However, and Lexa is annoyed at herself for noticing it, Clarke is a girl about her age, not unpleasant to look at, with wild blond hair that cascade around her face and engaging features.

“Hi, I'm Clarke.” says the girl, holding out her hand.

Lexa just raises an inquiring eyebrow. Now, this is surprising. Why is Clarke trying to befriend her _again_?

“Your neighbor. I live just next door.” adds Clarke, dropping her hand to her side.

“So you've said.” She sighs, gathering that Clarke isn't going to leave if she doesn't say anything more. “My name is Lexa.” she reveals reluctantly.

Right now would be the ideal moment to shake hands, but apparently it's too late. Clarke nods and continues her attempt at conversation.

“Nice to meet you.” she answers. (Lexa notices that Clarke is very good at lying, the girl would probably be a hell of a politician). “So, I was just thinking, if you need help with anything or if you want to have a drink sometimes or whatever, well, don't hesitate.”

“I will consider it.” she lies.

Clarke seems a bit taken aback by her dryness, but she doesn't move to leave, still blocking Lexa's threshold. Lexa taps her fingers impatiently against the doorway.

“Was there anything else?” she asks, eager to get back to her vegetables pie.

'Uh, yeah, is there something burning in here?”

Clarke steps into the room, wrinkling her nose.

“Christ, you really screwed up that pie.”

Lexa gapes at her. She can't believe it.

“Uh, excuse me? I do not exactly recall inviting you in, Clarke.”

She had to deal with all sort of roommates throughout the years: talkative, annoying, messy, but never nosy. Usually her passive aggressive behavior is enough to scare them all.

So when, now that she's fresh out of college, she decided she had enough and she was going to live by herself, she absolutely didn't think she would get a nosy neighbor. And there's no way that's going to go on. Oh no.

“Listen, Clarke”, she begins, hurrying to the oven. “You seem like a nice girl but I enjoy silence and loneliness. So if you could just go back to your apartment and let me handle my business on my own, it would be very appreciated, and... _fuck_ this food is ruined.” 

She had mumbled those last words between gritted teeth but Clarke  chuckled, hovering over her shoulder to glance at the disaster. 

(Okay, is she deaf or stupid? What part of  _get out_ didn't she understand?)

“I hear you.” answers Clarke. “However, if you ever change your mind, the offer still stands.”

Lexa nods curtly and angrily shoves the burned pie down her bin. She's exhausted by her day and she wants nothing less than try to cook something else. She sighs and buries her head in her hands, shutting out everything. Her head aches and she just wants to eat and get a good night's rest.

“Hey, you okay?”

A hand strokes her back gently, and she quickly moves aside.

“Yes. Yes, I'm fine.”

At that moment, her stomach rumbles and she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, Lexa, if you want, you'll never see me again after tonight. But it looks like you're hungry and I happen to own a homemade pizza just out of the oven. So, your choice, you can either eat it with me or order takeaway or something, which is going to take ages because there's a lot of traffic in Polis at night.”

Lexa's mouth is watering and she takes a moment to consider Clarke's proposition. A pizza sounds terrific and takeway in Polis does involve an hour of waiting at the very least, and Lexa hates it anyway. She slowly takes her hands away from her eyes and looks at Clarke with resignation.

“I guess your cooking can't be as bad as mine.” she gives up, met with a smirk.

“Come and see for yourself.” replies Clarke, gesturing her head toward the corridor.

 

It's a messy place.

No, mayhem would be a more accurate description. There is a complete lack of structure in the disposition of the furniture, and the floor is invaded with a multitude of parasite objects of various nature. Lexa spots a suspiciously red-tainted cloth next to the couch and a wooden sculpture of a lion beside the fridge, among other odd things. How the hell can anybody actually live in this place?

Also, it's cold, but Lexa never minded the cold. She's used to running long distances in freezing temperatures, and she spent her childhood in a huge mansion that wasn't exactly well-heated.

Clarke dodges the random stuff on the floor like an expert, making her way to the kitchen within seconds. Lexa would be in awe if she wasn't nursing a furious envy of tidying up.

“Sorry about the mess, I was trying to reorganize the place.” says Clarke, bending over one of the kitchen drawers to reach two plates.

As irritating as this girl has been so far, Lexa has to admit she has a great ass.

“Take a seat.” invites the blonde girl.

Lexa reluctantly crosses the living room and sits down on one of the kitchen chairs. Clarke gives her a knife and a fork and brings the pizza. And oh does it look good.

“Have a slice”, giggles Clarke, “you look like you're about to die if you don't eat it.”

Lexa obliges. Taking a mouthful of it, she almost moans.

“Clarke, that it beyond amazing.”

Lexa wishes she could cook like that.

“Thank you”, answers Clarke quietly.

After a few moments, Lexa has to stop chewing. She swallows and calmly clears her throat.

“Clarke. You've been staring at me for the last couple of minutes. Is there something wrong?”

Clarke blushes.

“Oh, God, no, I'm sorry. I'm just curious, I guess. The person who lived there before you was a nice old lady with a couple of cats. I was wondering who would take the apartment, so... I was just trying to, uh, figure you out.”

Lexa raises an eyebrow.

“By staring?”

“There's a lot you can learn by just watching someone.” Clarke defends herself.

Lexa puts down her fork and tilts her head.

“Really? May I ask what you've learned about me so far?”

Clarke sits up a bit straighter and crosses her hand very seriously.

“Well, for starters, you moved in just today and you're dressed quite formally. I take it you're not the kind of girl who wears sweatpants except for sport. You're elegant in the way you hold your head high, your shoulders don't slump and your hands are never idle. So, you either have a pretty strict education or you have a very serious job, or both. I'd say both, and you're working... maybe law, business or politics. You say you like being lonely, but you're not afraid of facing me. So this is not about shyness, you just don't mesh well with others. Oh, and you're doing lots of sport.”

Lexa takes another bite of pizza. She's impressed. This is all accurate. She wonders if maybe she misjudged Clarke. There might be more about her than an overly warm and intrusive neighbor.

“How did you figure out the sport thing?” she asks finally.

Clarke smiles with a hint of embarrassment.

“Your body is in great shape, Lexa.”

Lexa takes a sip of water to conceal her slightly flustered cheeks.

“You pay attention to details, I see. It's quite rare.”

“I'm an artist.” shrugs Clarke. “Details are what make things beautiful. It is with details that you convey emotion.”

Lexa nods, finishing her plate.

“Thank you, Clarke. This was the best part of my day.”

She's met with a wink when Lexa reaches over the table to take Lexa's plate away. Her shirt slides a little, revealing her cleavage, and Lexa forbids herself to gape. She averts her gaze, looking pointedly at her hands.

Clarke is silent when she clears up the table, refusing Lexa's help. This is surprising, the quiet part, but Lexa is more than pleased.

As she thanks Clarke a last time and prepares to say goodbye, she's interrupted with a question.

“Oh, Lexa, I wanted to know. Did you change your mind?”

Lexa blinks.

“On what topic?”

“Being alone. Do you want to see me again sometime?”

She's sure she doesn't miss the expectation on Clarke's features. But Lexa isn't here to make friends. She's starting a new job tomorrow, an important one, and she doesn't have time for distractions.

“Goodnight, Clarke.” she nods, before leaving Clarke apartment.

Clarke's  smile and her burning eyes haunt  Lexa long after she's locked up in her own flat, preparing to go to sleep.

 

\---

 

_Clarke – 11:32pm : Well, operation Annoy The Neighbor was a disaster._

_Raven – 11:34pm : Why? Did she hit you?_

_Octavia – 11:35pm : Did she hit on you?_

_Clarke – 11:37pm : No. But it was actually nice._

_Raven – 11:39pm : For fuck's sake, Griffin, can't you ever be mean to anyone?!_

_Octavia – 11:40pm : You suck_

Clarke turns her phone off. She sighs and rolls onto her side, shivering slightly beneath her three sweaters and two blankets. 

Lexa. She likes how the name sounds on her tongue, sweet and fluid yet exotic. Lexa, who was pretty much a bitch to her.

It had been a surprise when Lexa actually agreed to eat with her, and a bigger surprise when Clarke enjoyed it. With Lexa, the conversation was riveting, even if the girl wasn't opening up much.  She wasn't nice, far from that, but there was definitely something about her that captured Clarke's attention. Her behavior was rude, and yet Clarke somehow hoped that it was just a mask. She wanted to take a peek beneath the layer of hostility the girl draped around her like a second skin. In a word, s he was intriguing, and Clarke wanted nothing more than to get to know her. Intimately.

She groaned and facepalmed, as the memory of Lexa's perfect face and body dances beneath her closed eyelids. Why does she have to be so attractive?

And the worst of it is that Clarke initially planned to get her to move out. But the way Lexa declined her offer to see her again awoke something in Clarke.

Because Clarke Griffin loves nothing more than a challenge.

And just like that, get-Lexa-to-move-out turned into get-Lexa-to-like-me.


	2. War is declared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, your response to this story is amazing! Thanks so much for taking the time to read/leave kudos/comment, it means a lot and it makes me really happy. Enjoy!

Lexa settles into her office, reorganizing the place a little. Grounders Corporation is a company growing fast, selling online mostly clothing designed for extreme outdoor sports. Lexa has a major in economy, and during her job interview she was convincing enough so that they gave her a whole team to manage.

Lexa is now head of Polis' department, and a total of eighteen people are answering to her. It is her first day, and she really wants to make an impression. When she's done tidying her desk, she readjusts her tailored suit and heads to the main room, where people are working, packing clothes, designing the website or managing administration files.

“Good morning to you all.” she announces in a firm voice, capturing everyone's attention. “I am miss Woods, and I am the manager for Grounders Corporation's Polis unit.”

The people in the room greet her a little too cheerily for her taste. She decides to make herself very clear from the start.

“I expect the sales in this city to raise within the course of the year. I think the market is under-exploited, and that we could do with more publicity. Our goals will be to increase visibility for the website, engaging partnerships with outdoor sports clubs, gain sponsors and of course, keeping an impeccable quality to our product deliveries. As you can guess, this will not be easy to achieve. So let's cut to the chase, I am not here to be your friend.”

Silence falls upon the assembly, and Lexa continues, clasping her hands.

“So far, I have noticed a total of seven inadequate behaviors that could be prejudicing to the well being of the company. As a consequence, I highly suggest that you reflect on your attitudes. This is a place of hard work, and you are not there to chat nor to have fun. If you disagree with these simple values essential to a job in marketing, you're free to leave now.”

Lexa pauses and scrutinizes the faces before her. She notices with a hint of satisfaction that no one is smiling anymore. She has always been good at scaring people into obeying her. It is a talent that comes naturally to her, and it's most probably the reason why she was offered the job in the first place.

“Any questions?” she asks calmly, knowing perfectly well that nobody will dare opening their mouth. She waits a few seconds for good measure, then gives a nod. “Good. I will be in my office, should any of you need me. Oh, and I am going to need the numbers of last month's sales. Thank you, that will be all. Have a good day.”

Lexa retreats into her office, immediately getting to work. She wants to raise the Polis' sector of the company to a whole new level, in order to be noticed by her superiors and get a promotion. If everything goes well, she expects to be one of America's best saleswomen in a couple of years.

There's a careful knock on her door and Lexa sits a little straighter as a young woman enters.

“Here's the file you demanded.” says the girl, handing her a folder.

“Thank you.” Lexa nods curtly. She doesn't like the look on the girl's face, an expression of defiance bordering on insolence.

She quickly goes through the pages and notices that a few of them are missing.

“I will be needing the whole file.” she states, handing back the folder to the girl. “Pages eight to thirteen are lacking.”

“Very well, commander.” mumbles the young woman, almost snatching the file from Lexa's hand.

This was a serious mistake. Insubordination isn't something Lexa is willing to bear with.

“I beg your pardon?” she asks coldly, her tone turning into a dangerous, icy one.

“You haven't made a good impression so far, miss.” replies the girl boldly. “You could probably do with a bit more politeness. Well, a lot more, actually.”

Lexa folds her hands in front of her and pointedly stares at her, revealing in the way the girl's leg starts slightly twitching.

“What is your name?”

“Uh... I'm Octavia Blake.”

“Blake.” repeats Lexa, narrowing her eyes. “At what time do you finish work?”

The girl blinks, confused.

“What, tonight?”

“Yes.” nods Lexa.

“Six o'clock. Like everyone else in this building, boss.”

“Make it seven.” decides Lexa dryly. “I noticed the archive room isn't organized in chronological order, you'll fix it.”

Octavia Blake's mouth hangs open for a second, and anger flashes through her features.

“But that's unfair, I didn't do anyth...”

“Actually, you will stay here until eight.” Lexa interrupts. She really, really hates insubordination. She's the leader here, and she will not let her authority be questioned.

It works. Blake immediately retreats a few steps back, nodding eagerly.

“Okay, boss. No problem. Sorry.” she says, and if she doesn't sound genuinely sorry, she's most definitely a bit scared. Lexa keeps her face neutral, hiding her satisfaction. _I won._

“You're dismissed.” she concludes, and a smile toys on her lips when Octavia, defeated, closes the door behind her.

Lexa stretches her legs under the table, returning to her work. She has to admit, she really enjoys being in control.

 

\---

 

Raven arrived not three minutes earlier, and the music is already blasting through the handmade speakers she brought.

“I've been working on these babies all week.” she says with satisfaction. “What do you think?”

Clarke hands her a beer and smiles.

“They're loud.”

“It's the point. You've got a neighbor to piss off.” winks Raven, taking a swig.

She settles onto the couch and pats the spot besides her, inviting Clarke to sit.

“So, tell me. What is she like? Old and rude, I bet. The sort of woman who hates 'nowadays' youth', probably?”

Clarke shakes her head, scratching the back of her neck. How could she describe Lexa?

“Uh... No, actually. She's about our age. She's just... weird. With a very formal vocabulary and a really rude attitude.”

“Oh.” Raven widens her eyes. “So she's actually just a bitch with a stick up her ass?”

Clarke can't help but grimace at that. She should really not take Lexa's defense, because the girl did absolutely nothing to deserve it, but...

“I'm not sure I can say that. Sure, she's intense, and she acts like talking to me is a huge torture to her, but maybe she just has social issues?” she blurts out almost unwillingly.

She hates the smirk that appears on her friend's face, already wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

“Clarke.”

“What?” she snaps, rolling her eyes.

“Claaarke.” Raven pokes her in the shoulder. “Is she hot?”

Clarke glares at her and crosses her arms.

“Raven, that's not relevant at all.”

Something in her eyes must have given her away, because her friend leans closer with a grin.

“Oh, she totally is. I hope she gets warmer then.”

“I thought you wanted me to get her to move out.” Clarke sighs, desperate to change the subject. “Where is Octavia anyway?”

Raven shrugs and checks her phone, then shows the screen to Clarke.

_Octavia – 6:47pm : Stuck at work, I won't be here till maybe 9_

“Shit.” Clarke widens her eyes. “Is everything okay? She never finishes that late.”

She grabs Raven's phone and quickly types an answer.

_Raven – 6:58pm : Is there a problem?_

_Octavia – 6:59pm : Oh yeah, the new boss is just being an asshole is all_

Raven raises an eyebrow.

“I hope this won't happen often. It sucks having to work for a jerk.” She finishes her beer and throws a blanket on her legs. “Damn, I'm gonna need something much stronger than beer if I spend the evening here. Do you have tequila? It's wonderful to get warm.”

“I do. But we're waiting for Octavia.” replies Clarke.

Raven whines and heavily falls on Clarke's shoulder, hugging her tight.

“But I'm coooold. Can I call Bellamy, Jasper and Monty to ask them to come? With moonshine and vodka?”

“No. We said it's girls night, Raven.”

Raven scoffs and pretends to sulk.

“You're no fun. Ah, nevermind, we're throwing you a surprise party tomorrow night and the boys are coming.”

“Where?”

“Here, of course.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, something she has been doing entirely too often in Raven's presence.

“It's not a surprise if you tell me, you idiot.”

They talk a little more and decide to order pizzas, which take ages to be delivered. When Octavia finally arrives, it's nine o'clock and she's just in time to eat the second pizza.

“Bless you for ordering that.” she sighs, throwing herself at the food. “I'm so hungry.”

“So how's the new boss?” asks Clarke with concern.

“Awful. But I don't want to talk about it. How's your neighbor?”

““She's rude. Like, so fucking rude.” the blonde girl grunts.

“Someone's got it bad.” sings Raven innocently.

Clarke locks her jaw. This is completely untrue. Well, almost.

“I don't. I really don't. She's kind of a bitch, after all.”

Raven and Octavia glance at each other knowingly.

“Stop it, both of you.” snaps Clarke.

Raven holds out her hands in sign of peace.

“Apparently she's very hot.” she whispers to Octavia, loud enough for Clarke to hear.

The conversation finally drifts away and Octavia ends up talking about her new boss with animosity. It isn't surprising, because Octavia always shares everything with her friends.

“So, what's her name?” asks Clarke with curiosity. “Looks like you've found your master after all. It's not everyone who can scare Octavia Blake into obedience.”

“Woods.” grunts Octavia. “Might go by biggest bitch of Polis, though.”

“No, that would be my neighbor.” chuckles Clarke.

Raven opens the tequila and they start drinking it, while Clarke turns up the music, really loud. They dance and laugh for about fifteen minutes, until there's an angry knock at her door.

Giggling, Octavia turns the volume down as Clarke rushes to open, facing a furious Lexa.

“Clarke. I'm going to need you to turn this music down. I can't concentrate and I need to work on something.” snaps the girl.

She frowns.

“Are you drunk?”

Raven comes at this moment with a large grin on her face.

“Hey, I'm Raven. I've heard about you.”

Lexa just stares at her with an undecipherable expression on her features.

In this very moment, something snaps in Clarke, and she can feel her anger flaring. Granted, Lexa is intriguing, and admittedly gorgeous, but that doesn't mean she can behave like a complete asshole and get away with it. Clarke swears to herself that she will teach her some manners.

Respect is precious to Clarke, and it's a value she will force Lexa to observe. Screw her get-Lexa-to-like-me plan. Now, it's get-Lexa-to-show-me-some-respect.

“About the music, Lexa, you could ask more politely.” she retorts, tired of the girl's haughty attitude.

Lexa looks like Clarke just slapped her.

“I would be polite if you were behaving more appropriately. We are sharing this floor, Clarke, that involves keeping at least a bit quiet. Besides, that was rude of you to say. You don't want to know what happened to the last girl who said that to me.”

Octavia sneaks up slowly into the doorway, nodding at Lexa.

“That would be me.” she mumbles, while realization strikes Clarke.

“Blake.” says Lexa, holding up her chin.

“Woods.” answers Octavia with resentment.

Raven bursts into laughter.

“Holy shit, this is priceless!” she says, earning a slap from both her friends.

“Blake, I am reminding you that work starts tomorrow at eight in the morning. I would advise you to slow down on the alcohol. Hangover does not mix well with marketing.” recites Lexa, her stare cold as ice as she looks at Octavia. “Goodnight, Clarke. And keep it down.” she adds dryly before whipping on her heels and walking away.

When she's gone, Raven starts laughing again.

“Okay, so she's _both_ Clarke's hot neighbor and Octavia's bitchy boss. Guys, this is such a funny situation, you've got to see that.”

Octavia glares at Clarke.

“Perfect, now she hates me even more. Why couldn't you be friends with her? That would have softened her up with me.”

“You mean she hates me even more”, retorts Clarke, “because I'm friends with the insolent girl who questioned her authority.”

Clarke slams the door shut and falls heavily on the couch, sighing.

“How the hell can she be so rude yet so interesting?” she mumbles to herself.

“I heard that.” informs Octavia. “And she's not interesting, you just think she's attractive.”

“Can you blame her though?” smirks Raven. “It's so cold in here, it's a good thing she's got the hots for someone.”

“That's a bad pun, Raven.” deadpans Clarke.

“Okay, come on girls. We need to finish the tequila, and don't forget what the plan is. We're getting this good-looking asshole out of here, so Clarke can take over her flat.”

Octavia eagerly downs the shot Raven hands her, but she winces when her friend turns the music up again.

“Raven, I'm not sure provoking her is a good idea. She's probably going to kill me tomorrow at work if we don't keep it down.”

“Like you care about that job.” Raven rolls her eyes. “You hate it, you're just staying because your boyfriend Lincoln works here too.”

Octavia sticks out her tongue at her and turns to Clarke.

“Okay, I admit I really want to annoy the fuck out of her too. She deserves it. I'm jeopardizing my relationship with my boss for the sake of you, Griffin. So you better get that apartment, babe.”

Clarke chuckles and pours herself another shot of tequila.

“This is so touching, Octavia. But seriously though, you probably shouldn't stay late, and it's already half past ten. Get a good night's rest and avoid the hangover. Hell knows I wouldn't want to deal with Lexa if I already had a headache.”

Raven sighs as she pats her stomach.

“You know what? Booze's magic. I can't even feel the cold anymore. And don't worry, Clarke, Octavia and I are going home after we finish the bottle. I'll call a cab, let's say, in one hour tops.”

 

\---

 

Clarke wants a war? Lexa will give it to her.

She went to ask her to turn the music down, and not a minute later it was back on, louder than before. Lexa had to breathe deeply to calm herself and find the strength not to go back and destroy the speakers.

Not to mention that Octavia Blake was here, and another sassy annoying girl too. She should have seen it coming, really. Clarke seems like the type of girl to have loud, rude and obnoxious friends.

She is so going to get her revenge.

Lexa really wants to overload Blake with tons of work, papers to sort and files to rewrite, but she's not going to do that. The party wasn't hosted by Octavia, and it would be unfair of Lexa to blame her for her acquaintances outside the workplace. However, it doesn't mean she's going to be any nicer to Octavia Blake anytime soon. Nope, never.

She tried earplugs, headphones, classical music to soothe her, but nothing works. She could still hear Clarke's garbage music filling her apartment like a toxic fog.

Lexa keeps telling herself that this is temporary. She needed an apartment quickly, and she hadn't gotten her first salary yet, so when she saw the ad on the internet, the cheap rent appealed to her and she leaped on the occasion. If she's not satisfied with the place, she will most likely move out within the course of the next couple of months.

She couldn't work, so she went to bed, but then she couldn't sleep either. This music is too goddamn distracting. Lexa wants to bang her fists against the very thin wall separating her apartment from Clarke's, but it probably won't do anything.

So when it finally stops, it feels like heaven. Lexa takes a deep breath, relieved, and eyes the clock.

_2:19AM_

_Shit. I have to work in less than six hours._

To say that Lexa is pissed off would be a hell of an understatement. She's furious. Actually, she's too angry to fall asleep.

Lexa rolls around in her bed for a few minutes before she decides to get up, and she storms out of her flat.

She knocks harshly on Clarke's door and doesn't even wait for an answer, bursting in. It wasn't locked. Octavia Blake and the other girl are visibly gone.

“Hello again.” she hears in a sarcastic tone. “Did you miss me?”

Clarke is sitting cross-legged on a stool by the kitchen island, and she's holding a glass full of red wine.

“You”, hisses Lexa, moving forward until she invades Clarke's personal space, “are the worst neighbor I have ever encountered.”

“Right back at you.” replies Clarke in a low voice.

In this instant, Lexa notices two things. One, Clarke is obviously inebriated. Other than the fact like she's talking a bit like a drunk person, her breath smells like alcohol. The second thing is that she probably shouldn't be standing so close that she could actually smell Clarke's breath. Or notice the admittedly cute freckles on her face.

But Lexa doesn't back down, ever, so she stands her ground and tries to keep her voice controlled.

“It's two o'clock in the morning.”

“Did you come here just to inform me of that? I have a watch, you know.”

“I need to be up in about four hours.”

“Then I guess you should go to bed, Lexa.”

Lexa is not used to people standing up to her. That's why she has trouble coming up with appropriate comebacks. This has absolutely nothing to do with the way Clarke pronounces her name, making it breathy and haltingly.

“I would have been sleeping for hours if it wasn't for your loud music, _Clarke.”_

She doesn't know exactly why she does it, but she mimicks Clarke's tone, insisting on her name, articulating it distinctly.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Clarke replies in a husky tone, setting her glass of wine aside.

“Well.” Lexa presses her lips together tightly, overwhelmed by her anger. “You could apologize.”

Clarke scoffs and gets off of her stool, standing up. Lexa's reflex is to take a step back, but she forces herself not to. This is a power game, and Lexa will not let Clarke win that easily.

However, they're standing far too close now for it to be appropriate. Lexa's muscles are strained, her whole body alert, as the tension between them is running high.

Lexa really, really wants to punch Clarke.

“Apologize?” repeats Clarke, staring at her right in the eye. “When you've been such a bitch to me?”

Lexa gapes at her, wordless. How can she have the nerve to call her that?

“You have been keeping me awake for hours, Clarke! I can't help it if I was a little harsh when I requested that you turn the music down.”

Clarke lets out a small chuckle.

“And what would you call your behavior yesterday? A little harsh? This was downright rude. And then, I had the obliging courtesy to share my food with you. If anything, you should be the one to apologize to me.”

Lexa widens her eyes when she realizes that Clarke is actually serious.

“I am not doing that.” she growls between gritted teeth, fists clenched.

She's so close to punching Clarke. She has never met someone this annoying in her entire life.

“Well, then I guess I should inform you that I'm having a party here tomorrow. It's probably going to be... a little loud.”

Her jaw twitches as she understands what Clarke's angle is.

“Are you blackmailing me for an apology?” she asks, incredulous. “Because that's not going to happen.”

Clarke addresses her a little pout, before turning away, leaving Lexa's personal space. Lexa lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

“That's too bad.” says the blonde girl, leaning back against the sink. “I could have told my friends to keep it down tomorrow night.”

“You know, I could take this matter to the landlord. I'm sure he will have something to say about this.” threatens Lexa.

Clarke tilts her head on the side and smiles at her, in a way that is almost patronizing.

“Funny.” she states. “Ruthless, scary, arrogant little Lexa Woods, too weak to fight her own battles? Who would have thought.”

Lexa has to admire her, in spite of everything. This is well played. Clarke just attacked her pride, and Lexa certainly isn't going to give her such a satisfaction.

“Fine, I will not do it.”

Raising a hand, Clarke waves her fingers at her playfully.

“You should probably get some sleep, Lexa. While you can. Goodnight.”

Lexa feels humiliated. Clarke clearly won the argument, and she isn't even sober. Lexa is left speechless, and now she's dismissed as if she was a little child.

So it's war.

“It's on.” she says, glaring one last time at Clarke. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into, Clarke.”

She turns on her heels, when suddenly Clarke calls her back.

“Lexa? Am I supposed to feel scared right now?”

“Maybe you should.” Lexa snaps at her. “You're going to regret this utter lack of respect, I promise you.”

The giggle that follows hurts her pride even more. This is the first time that she threatens someone and isn't rewarded with a frightened glance. Lexa doesn't like it. She corrects that thought : she doesn't like Clarke.

“It's the first time I'm threatened by someone wearing bright green pajamas shorts with little racoons on it. This is not scary, Lexa, it's just cute.”

Lexa feels her cheeks burning up, as she realizes her mistake. She was so angry she didn't even spare a thought about her clothing, and she didn't dress up before coming to Clarke's.

She lifts her chin, drapes herself in what's left of her dignity, and turns away.

Behind her, Clarke watches her walk away, a smile toying on her lips, staring pointedly at Lexa's bare legs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come talk to me about anything/get super excited with me about s3 at warpaintlovers on tumblr. Thanks for reading and have a great day/night!


End file.
